


Dude

by FroldGapp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cooking, Friendship, Gen, Sad Keith (Voltron), Sickfic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 08:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13360278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroldGapp/pseuds/FroldGapp
Summary: During a break from fighting, Hunk looks forward to nothing more than some quality "me time", but as he settles in to a nice evening's cooking he gets an unexpected gatecrasher.





	Dude

**Author's Note:**

> I lifted this from a former AO3 account of mine and cleaned it up a bit for Hunk's birthday. S1 compliant.

A quiet evening on the Castle of Lions. Coran had explained that morning that there was to be no training, no racing, no ‘goofling around’ of any kind under _any_ circumstances while he ran performance checks on the ship. Doing so could result in death– horrible, grisly, not-at-all-my-fault-because-I've-told-you deatb, the Altean had warned. Whether from the ship itself, or Allura’s wrath had been left to the paladins' imagination.

Hunk welcomed the break. Unsurprisingly, "Defender of the Universe" was a job with just a little strain, but that wasn't all. The yellow paladin often found himself sharing tired, worried looks with Shiro when the three feistier paladins were at each other’s throats. They were a team, and that meant a place at the table for every personality: the quiet, the loud, the active, the passive. And, of course, the Lance, the Keith, and the Pidge (who seemed to have worked out, through methods beyond Hunk's understanding, some kind of argumentative rota).

Coran's performance tests were a welcome break from the sometimes maddening proximity of Team Voltron. They could stretch– relax. Lance had tried to coax him into telling ghost stories with Pidge, and Shiro had offered the 'opportunity' to clean his lion, but he’d escaped both invitations. No, tonight was about ‘me time’ which meant ‘cooking time’.

It was after a full five minutes at the oven that the yellow paladin realised someone else was in the kitchen with him. Glancing up from the Altean recipe he was trying – and failing – to read, Hunk saw Keith slinking around the counter and peeping into cupboards with a scowl on his face. The shorter boy stretched on his tiptoes to reach the highest cupboard, leaning back to peer in, before closing it against with a dissatisfied huff. He opened the one beneath it.

‘Nothing in there but cleaning stuff,’ Hunk said.

Keith jumped in his skin and clipped his head off the corner of the open cupboard door. He hissed and spun away, muttering a strained but friendly, ‘Hey, Hunk,’ as he rubbed his head.

‘Ah, I’m sorry!’ Hunk was at his teammate’s side in a beat. He towered over Keith, who was rubbing the knuckles of his gloved hand over the spot he’d hit. His hair was damp from the shower, his t-shirt clinging to his thin frame. He coughed, sniffed noisily, then rose from his pained crouch.

'Sorry, Keith. Didn't mean to startle you.'

‘No, no,’ the red paladin said, smiling at Hunk. ‘I was in a world of my own. Shouldn't have been so jumpy.’ He made a face and looked over Hunk's shoulder at the oven. ‘Is there anything to eat?’

Hunk beamed. ‘I was just about to make something!’ His face fell. ‘Are you feeling okay? You’re really pale, man.’

Keith laughed nervously– that small, shy laugh that reminded Hunk he wasn’t a ‘mullet-brained jerk-wad’ no matter how much Lance tried to convince him otherwise. He was actually pretty... _soft._

‘I’m just tired.’

Hunk studied his teammate. Waxy skin, pale lips, and deep bruising under his eyes; he looked like he was about to fall over. He’d been pushing himself too hard, training non-stop and skipping on meals to go and meditate with Red. As the sword arm and fastest lion, he was most often under fire on the field. The cracks were beginning to show. Hunk knew. As everyone knew. As Shiro especially knew, trying as he did to get through to his second-in-command. But trying to talk Keith out of his punishing regime was about as useful as trying to talk Galrans into turning green and dancing the foxtrot.

The yellow paladin punched his fellow-pilot lightly on the arm. ‘How about I make us something?’ he smiled. ‘Some quality Keith-Hunk, arm and leg, little and large, grumpy and adorably sunny guy, food time!’

Keith’s dark eyes studied him for a beat before he nodded and grinned, slipping under Hunk’s outstretched arms and onto a seat. He leaned his chin on one hand and looked at the saviour of the universe-cum-chef with his shrewd, tired eyes. ‘I suppose you owe me for getting me to skull myself on that cupboard.’

Hunk issued an over-the-top huff and tightened the band around his head. ‘It’s always Hunk’s fault,’ he sighed, and turned to work, abandoning the Altean recipe in favour of something quick and simple. There wasn’t such a huge difference between ‘me time’ and ‘Keith time’ anyway. The red pilot had a talent for being there without being there at all– great for Hunk and Shiro who appreciated the quiet, but he did wonder occasionally how it felt for Keith. Hunk wasn't sure, but he got the sense that there was plenty Keith wanted to say but didn't. Or couldn't. _He can be a bit of a familiar shadow at times_ , Shiro had said once.

Hunk had to wonder.

'Hey Keith,' he said. Keith glanced up at him, expectant. 'Get off your ass and peel those for me.' He gestured at a bag spilling over with fat, Arusian tubers.

Keith laughed. 'Aye, aye, cap'n.'

* * * 

The boys ate largely in silence. With Keith sniffing and coughing in between mouthfuls. The coughs were rattling, wet affairs, that once had Hunk rushing to fetch a water pack. ‘Thanks,’ Keith had sputtered, receiving it with trembling fingers.

‘So, I guess with Coran’s tests you have to rest, huh?’ Hunk chanced, spooning a large, gelatinous glob into his mouth.

Keith’s shoulders hardened at the advice. He chewed for a few seconds and swallowed. ‘I like to train.’

‘Sure,’ Hunk said, as lightly as he could. ‘Sure.’

They kept eating, Hunk humming a nonsense song in his head. Keith kept sniffing noisily and rubbing at his temples. After a few more minutes, Hunk couldn't help himself. He piped up again. ‘I mean… It won’t be, like, good if you’re too tired and … eh…’ The yellow paladin felt his sentence derail as Keith froze statue-still with a spoonful poised at his mouth. ‘It won’t… What I mean is you’ll be way better if you rest, right? And now you have to rest with Coran's tests running, so that’s good. You don’t even have to think about it. Cos it’s…’ Hunk tapped his spoon on the table. ‘Cos, you know, you can’t… It's not your fault... You not training now, right? You're allowed to rest.’

Keith coughed and ate his spoonful at last. ‘Right.’

After a time, both plates were clean. ‘All done?’ Hunk chimed despite the awkward interlude, pleased that Keith – who usually left half his food – finished every scrap. The red paladin sat back and rubbed his stomach. ‘Yeap,’ he smiled. ‘Thanks.’

Hunk gathered up the plates, ignoring Keith’s protests that he should clean up since he didn't really cook, and ambled over to the depository. As he scraped the plates and divided the dishes into the right baskets, he chattered away about how he learned to cook; his aunt's legendary skills and his favourite meals from home. He turned back to the table, fingers raised in the air. ‘ _Four_ national awards, she won at–’ he cut himself off.

Keith had fallen asleep, his fingers hooked under the lip of the table and his head tipped back, Adam’s apple thrust out like a punch. Asleep, he didn’t look half as fierce. _Or half as lost_ , Hunk thought.

Padding to the other end of the room, Hunk gathered up a cushion and put it down on the table in front of Keith. Gently, he coaxed the boy forward until his arms were stretched across the surface, and his cheek lay on the pillow. Dark eyes cracked open. ‘What are you doing?’ Keith mumbled, amused.

‘Just a little signature Hunk aftercare,’ the boy answered. ‘Think I’ll work on that Altean recipe now. Or try to.’

Keith snickered and yawned widely. He settled more comfortably on the pillow. ‘Mind if I sit here while you work?’ he asked, sleepily.

‘Of course not, man.’ Hunk picked up the Altean reader and swiped his thumb over the top to open the page again. ‘It’s really nice having you around, Keith.’

'Thanks. I eh... thank you.' Keith closed his eyes and smiled. 'You’re a really cool guy, Hunk.’

Hunk's face flushed red and he found himself doing a silent little dance at the compliment. 'Cool', huh?

Wait until he told Lance.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and chat! https://froldgapp.tumblr.com


End file.
